Singers Sing Sad Songs When They're Sad

How many Gregs could a Greg Craig Craig if a Greg Craig could Craig Greg (oneshot or something)

The housing in the town is made up of simple two-story houses, most of these of built in the style of 70s and 80s American suburbs despite being far removed from such a setting. Many of the houses have similar layouts with some divergence: most feature a bottom floor consisting of a kitchen, dining room and living room, a second floor with a master and secondary bedroom, and a bathroom with a tub. A few of the houses have garages, but the vehicles they contained are either gone or have been rendered inoperable.

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Kermit
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Singers Sing Sad Songs When They're Sad

#1

Post by Kermit »

((Greg continued from the banks of the ohio))

Slowly, room by room, corner by corner, Greg went and checked every room of the house for... someone. Shu's corpse, Shu hiding from whoever killed Kiera, or whoever killed Kiera. Those three. At one point, while he was looking under a bed, a rat popped out from the wall and scurried at him, and he got spooked so bad he nearly reflexively murdered it with his machine gun before recognizing it was just a rat. In all, searching the whole house took him at least an hour.

Kiera was still sitting in a chair in the living room, with a ring cut into the circumference of her neck.

Shu was gone.

Greg found no murderers hiding in any closets.

It was completely dark outside now.

Greg huddled down on the ground in the corner of a top-floor bedroom with his gun.

Greg didn't know what to do. He definitely wasn't going to sleep. He was just going to... going to wait here, in this corner, until the sun came up. He knew it wasn't safe in this house anymore. Even though he'd looked everywhere and found nobody, maybe he wasn't alone in here. Maybe there was somebody who was better at hiding than he was at looking. He couldn't be sure. There had to be footprints in the snow outside, and they'd help him figure out what had happened while he was gone -- or at least whether Kiera had been killed by someone new who had arrived at the house or if she'd been killed by Shu, and whether Shu or the killer were still around -- but he would need to go outside at night with his flashlight on to do that, and that wasn't something that... felt safe at the moment. If the killer was here, they had to know he was also here, given how much noise he'd been making before he'd realized there was anything wrong. So he didn't want to let them know his specific location, in case they wanted to kill him (which they probably did want, since they killed Kiera). And he couldn't go searching for a new place to stay, because if he couldn't find anywhere he'd freeze to death overnight. He was stuck here.

Something skittered around downstairs.

Greg's ears pricked up.

It was just the rat, he told himself.

Greg wasn't sure whether this feeling was shock or if it was grief. Greg wasn't sure what grief felt like. He wasn't sure if he knew Kiera well enough to feel grief instead of shock. It was like when the terrorists had killed Mr. Perez and that nice teacher who had the model train collection.

Kiera had been kind to Greg despite having no obligation to, despite the situation they were in, so that told him enough to figure out what kind of person she was.

She deserved better than dying like this.

Most people did.

Kiera had been so alive, and now she was dead. Greg had been gone for five minutes and in that five minutes someone killed her.

He hoped Shu hadn't done it. He really really hoped Shu hadn't done it. He didn't know the specifics of Shu and Kiera's relationship or if they were just friends or if they were dating etc., but it... hadn't seemed - at the time - it hadn't seemed like it would be dangerous to leave the two together. To Greg, they'd seemed like they... trusted each other, at least. Kiera had definitely at least trusted Shu, since she was the one who asked Greg to step out. But maybe that was wrong. Or maybe Greg shouldn't have left. Maybe nothing bad would have happened if he'd stayed.

Or maybe not.

It was tough to not dwell on it.

Greg had always tended to avoid introspection, as a rule. Asking yourself questions that you couldn't actually answer had always seemed to him like it was something that couldn't lead to happy places.

A lot of the songs he listened to were actually really sad. They were about loneliness and regret and longing and dying alone. He just didn't actually focus on the lyrics enough while listening to really fit them together and process any melancholy.

All of Greg's friends were really sad. Gerard was gay and couldn't come out to his parents, Sadie's parents couldn't even speak to each other without getting into an argument and yet they lived in the same house together, and Heidi was.... well, there was a lot going on with Heidi. But Greg was always just Greg. Sometimes he felt guilty about that.

What did he believe in?

He believed that philosophy said more about the philosopher than it did the universe.

That's alright. But what did he believe in?

He believed in... being nice. He believed in not hurting people, he guessed.

Okay. But what did he believe happened to people after they died? Did he believe in something?

He wasn't sure. He'd never needed to, before now. Nothing had ever pushed him into that.

It was a long night.

The sun hadn't come up yet.

The speakers blared.

Eleven people were dead.

Eulogizing about people you didn't know was a difficult thing.

Shu had garroted Kiera.

Greg covered her with a duvet, packed his bags, and walked out into the morning dark.

((He couldn't stand being in this house anymore.))
[+] v7
[+] Michael Froese
Michael Froese - The story of an identity; the story of a matador; the story of a liar; the story of a junkie; the story of a very special frog; the story of a jackal; the story of an oscillator; the story of a ghost; the story of the death of an author; the story of a bunch of other stuff.

THREADS!

PREGAME: Mad world - This...this felt nice. - Michael was incredibly disappointed in himself for actually agreeing to go do something with Beryl. - He wasn't actually all that sorry. - Part of him was worried his real motivation wasn't self-torturing altruism but instead the fact that it was one of the few things that still made him feel.

ISLAND:
Michael and all of his friends were going to be footnotes in a history textbook. - he was folding in on himself like a four-dimensional object in three-dimensional space - Everything was about pain, fear, and love. - "Gave them our reactions, our explosions, all that was ours; For graphs of passion, and charts of stars." - He had a duty to look into someone's eyes as he killed them. - Closure really did sound like nothing at all. - "I wish we were lovers, but it's for the best." - Michael Froese the award-winning murderer. That was who he was now. - "I wanted to lose myself." - "Good and bad, all roads lead to Rome and I just, it hurts too much to be a good person." - "Somewhere out there in the deep blue sea, there's this whale." - "...It's harder to be yourself than it is to be anybody else." - "The neighbors, they adored him for his humor and his conversation. Look underneath the house there, find the few living things, rotting fast in their sleep; oh, the dead," - He gave her a big hug. He buried his head in her shoulder, feeling her cold, spongy, rubbery skin against his forehead. She had no eyes. She had no face. Something had eaten her face. - Michael Froese was a crazy person with a gun. - Validation. - "You don't live in a goddamned movie." - "I miss what it's like to be, like, actually alone." - "Market data inconsistent. Cantor API problem. Trading system offline," - Michael didn't want this. It wasn't like that'd stop him. - "I'm wide awake, it's morning." - He was a spree killer now, he supposed. - When he gave his word, he was giving nothing. - The fact they even existed was being politicized. - "BERYL FUCKING MAHELONA. TELL ME WHAT YOU DID TO BERYL MAHELONA," - 'Am I gray?' - A beach covered in unidentified decedents. - He'd never felt anything unconditionally. - "Look around you, you're surrounded.
It won't get any better. And so, goodnight."
[+] Valerija Bogdanovic
The story of a (failed) revolutionary.

THREADS!

PREGAME: August 12th, 2017 - The explosive sound of metal hitting metal

ISLAND:
She turned away. Everything from here on out was for the terrorists to see. - "All of us, we have the chance to actually do something with our lives." - The students were the shark in the box. - Complacency was festering like a tumour. - "She's right. It won't - it won't change anything," - Scraped into the wall, in neatly-styled lettering, the words "If they won't live in peace, then they'll die for peace." - Val needed a gun, - "I do not care for violence without a point," she stated. "My gun is not loaded." - "Juliette, I'm sure you already know this, but you really should take pains to be careful around people who speak only in enthymemes." - "Someone once said, 'Change must come with the barrel of a gun', and they were not wrong." - Two explosions.
none of you can prove im in v8
[+] v9, AKA. Kermit rejects modernity, returns to writing mentally ill bisexuals.
[+] Sad Gay Hours with Kermit and Mara.
Well no one's gonna fix it for us, no one can
You say that "No one's gonna listen, no one understands."
And so there's no open doors, there's no way to get through
There's no other witnesses, just us two
There's two people living in one small room
From your two half-families tearing at you
Two ways to tell the story, no one worries
Two silver rings on our fingers in a hurry
Two people talking inside your brain
Two people believing that I'm the one to blame
Two different voices coming out of your mouth
While I'm too cold to care and too sick to shout
[+] The mallgoth who died offscreen in Supers
You can read me like a book
I'm not as clever as I look
I've got a sneaky kind of selfish
That I keep up on the shelf
With jars of double-sided comments
For people who've done nothing wrong
Preparing for the lights
And always practicing my sha-na-na's
I will stand right next to giants
And roar beside the lions
[+] Johnny R. Fightmaster
What road?
What road?
What road?
What road?
I'd been working on some open-ended shit
I was looking for an in and that was it
Back at the recital, signs remain vital
A statue is stone which rejects its own pulse
You heart's fair, your heart's square, your heart's not even there
Wasting shore leave on the girls from Point St. Claire
There is a light and it goes out, oh
A touch of classicism in the night
Your backlash was right where I wanted you
Yes, that's right, I wanted you, too
[+] Pow Pow
From this position
I will relax
From this position
I can see the whole site

From this position
Oh, oh just relax
From this position
I took the staff test
I now have a purple name

And chat goes @Staff
@Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff
@Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff
It goes @Staff
@Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff
@Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff

From this position
I can see all the pings
From this position
I totally get how our decisions were reached

From this position
I can say "no pregame murders," or "Tracen Danya is canonically a catboy TikTokker," or "go bother Deamon instead,"
From this position, from this position
It's kind of like eating myself to death

With you on the outside
And me on the inside
There's advantages to both
(Advantages to both!)

And me being uptight
And you being all right
There's advantages to each
(Advantages! Advantages!)

From this perspective, from this position
I have a good grip on both of them
Because I have stayed home
And have learned a little more about my community
Which is important
You know, Main's got 1,269 characters to read

So chat goes @Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff
@Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff
@Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff
@Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff
So it's @Staff
@Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff
@Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff
It goes @Staff
@Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff
@Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff

With you in a sidechat
And me in the staffchat
There's advantages to both
(Advantages to both)

And now you have gone terminally inactive
And then you didn't send an appeal
And so I will have to take away your beloved character and then I will have to kill them
(And i'll feel really bad about doing it even though it's my job ;~;)

Now I have been Danya
And you are not Danya
There's advantages to each
(Advantages to each)
And we're coming back, coming back, coming back
Until there's no U.S. state left untouched on the map
We probably should have expected that people would mishandle colonialism in the Hawaii version

I'm paralyzed
And looking through you
But if nothing's right
Please don't yell at meeee

As a terrified autistic person
I'm amazed at my decision to play

On this occasion, there are a couple of things that we know that we pulled from Fact Magazine
One, character morality discourse is annoying and I don't care about it
Two, your time will come, but this is gonna be our version
So you should give us all of your roll nulls
Three, I wrote a goth and you did not, so shut up, because you don't know shit about goths that you didn't get from me

So times have been tough
And times have been tough
We have been staffkilled, unrolled, and rolled out
But honestly
And let's be honest with ourselves
How much time did we waste?
How much time did we all blow every day?

And so it's @Staff
@Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff
@Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff
Oh, @Staff
@Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff
@Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff

So @Staff
@Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff
@Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff
@Staff
@Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff
@Staff, @Staff, @Staff, @Staff
(Please do not ping @Staff as a joke!)
(Staff will kill you in real life!)
(Yes I mean you!)

With you on the inside
And me on the outside
There's advantages to both
(Advantages to both!)

With my name in purple
And your name in blue
There's advantages to each
(Advantages! Advantages!)

From this position
I feel an affinity for the both of them, which is confusing
But honestly
I should be careful because otherwise, I'm being, I'm being, you know, what's it called?
Oh, fuck it
...
-Reclining, I'm getting used to it
Like writing a mentally ill bisexual
It's an entirely new
Discovery, discovery, discovery, discovery, discovery, discovery, discovery, discovery

And then a couple of versions on mini
And then a version on main
And then back over to mini and then to main, again
To use up my desire for
Discovery, discovery, discovery, discovery, discovery, discovery, discovery

For an instant
We could have been sold as a book
But the site's all been plagiarized
From Koushun Takami anyway
So what you want for now
Is for someone to read you
And to hear that the trends you like
Won't become overplayed

And I don't knoOOOOOOOw what I'm doing
I don't knooooowwww
I don't knooooowwww
I don't knooooowwww

(Staff will kill you in real life!)
I'm losing my edge.
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